The Sound Inside a Shell
by AliceEm in Potterland
Summary: For Alice Emerson and the rest of her class, the rumored rise of a new dark wizard - Lord Voldemort - was irrelevant. Concern was only the feeling before the OWLs; fear only in the moments considering another loss to Slytherin on the pitch. Until...
1. Prologue: Another Day at the Office

August, present day

Early afternoon

Ministry of Magic

Harry Potter drummed his fingers on his desk. He sighed, pulled his fingers through his unmanageable black hair, and pushed up his glasses. Years after the battle of Hogwarts, years after the defeat of Voldemort, the darkest wizard of all time, after marriage and the birth of three children, Harry could hardly survive a day at the office. True, Auror work was challenging. It demanded much from him and never failed to be interesting, dangerous, or at the very least, a reliable source of entertainment. But recently, the Ministry hit a successful run, notable for its peaceful flourish in which Aurors had little to do. Most days, they sat in their office chairs in their small, claustrophobic cubicles and filled in paperwork. Boring, investigative stuff - common secretary work. Harry was not one to complain, but truth is, he was bored and suffering from a bout of cabin fever.

What he needed was a worthwhile distraction, a task that would allow him to leave the office, explore a bit. He stared blankly at the pictures on his desk. A wedding picture of him and Ginny echoed the wedding photo of his parents next to it. Albus grinning sheepishly as he clutched his first wand. Lily's first lost tooth. James with Harry's niece and nephew, Hugo and Rose Weasley, playing a game of Exploding Snap. A picture of the Order before Sirius died, and beside it, a picture of the original Order. He smiled absently at his parents, waving to him from the picture frame. 

Scanning over the faces, Harry sighed. So many good people had died fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Many of the witches and wizards in the picture fell to dark wizards at the battle of Hogwarts, if not before. Most died before Harry himself was born, some as soon as a few months after the picture was taken. His eyes passed over the picture for what must have been the umpteenth time. James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, Snape, the Longbottoms, Wormtail...he stopped. 

Pulling the picture from his desk, he peered closer at the photo. A face Harry had never noticed before beamed up at him, a small auburn-haired young woman. She was standing between Alice Longbottom and Hagrid, half hidden behind Hagrid's mass. Sirius stood diagonally behind her and - Harry squinted into the picture - it looked like their hands were joined behind Alice Longbottom's left thigh. 

_That's strange,_ Harry thought, _I wonder how I never saw her before. No one ever mentioned her._ Harry's heart sank as he realized no one was alive who would know who she was. Except maybe...

Harry pushed himself up from his seat, leaving a considerable stack of paperwork untouched on his desk. The nearest fireplace was down the hall next to the lift. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder from a small bin next to the fireplace, Harry threw it into the fire and clearly enunciated, "Hagrid's hut." The flames burned higher, signaling clearance to travel.

Ducking down to squeeze out of the fireplace, Harry heard a low chuckle from the far side of the room. "Haven' seen yeh in quite a while, Harry! Heard yeh comin'. Couldn' mistake yer coughin' if I tried." Harry grinned and allowed Hagrid to pull him into a hug, poking the edges of the photo's frame into Harry's ribs. It had been several years since Harry had visited Hagrid at his home. They met occasionally at the Leaky Cauldron for a drink, a particularly welcome treat after an uneventful day at the Ministry. Hagrid's beard, bushy as ever, sported a fair few more gray hairs. 

Harry glanced around the room. Nothing had changed since he'd last saw it. Hagrid invited him to sit down, but Harry declined. "I'm not officially supposed to be here, Hagrid, but I was wondering." He showed Hagrid the picture and pointed to the unidentified girl. "That woman standing next to you - I don't know who she is. I thought I might try to find her, if I could. Thank her or..." His voice trailed, as Hagrid grabbed the picture from his hand. 

"Oh, her." He scrutinized the picture with disapproval. "Tha's Alice Emerson. She was yer mum's bes' friend, back in their Hogwarts days. Disappeared from the Order after Sirius was sent ter Azkaban...worked at the Ministry las' I heard o' her." Harry's heart raced - she would be easy to find. If she'd worked at the Ministry, her name would be listed in a registry and Harry could contact her without leaving the Ministry offices. The perfect situation: an adventure without the danger of being caught off duty.

"Thanks, Hagrid. I'm off - Leaky Cauldron next Thursday?" Harry offered, stepping back toward the fireplace. Hagrid's face fell. "I'll bring the family, too, if you'd like. The kids have missed you since school let out." Harry's children, James, Albus, and Lily, were favorites of Hagrid. He'd known them since they were born and treated them specially in his Care of Magical Creatures classes. Over the summer holiday, Harry was certain that Hagrid missed them.

"I'll see yeh then, I s'ppose. Can' say no ter seein' my favorite students, now, could I?" Hagrid agreed, satisfied with the prospect of visiting the kids. It had been a while since he'd talked to Ginny, too. "Tell Ginny I said, 'hello'."

"I will." Harry gathered a fist full of Floo powder from an earthen jug on Hagrid's mantle and tossed it into the flames. "Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Headquarters." The flames faded from bright orange to green. Harry stepped into the fireplace, and quickly waved at Hagrid before being swept into the Floo network.

Once back at the office, Harry stifled a disappointed moan. Even the atmosphere made him cringe. Picture in hand, he hurried back to his cubicle, ignoring the stack on his desk which had grown even taller in his absence. A folded piece of paper flitted irritably above his head. Swiping it aside, Harry bent down to open the bottom drawer of a small filing cabinet that tucked neatly under his desk. At the bottom of the drawer, buried under several files on notorious dark wizards that had long since been thrown into Azkaban, a thick dusty Ministry registry sat molding. Harry lifted the rubbish on top to dig the registry out; it contained detailed descriptions of each Ministry office, each Ministry position, and every rule and procedure of the Ministry. It also contained, at the very back past the indexes, a list of Ministry workers. This list contained everyone from custodians to the Minister himself, past and present, and was charmed to update itself. Flipping to the "E"s, Harry scanned the list for "Emerson," hoping she hadn't married since the last time Hagrid spoke to her.

"Emerson, Aberman. Emerson, Aidan..." Harry murmured. "Ah, Emerson, Alice." His eyebrows shot up in surprise. She was still working at the Ministry! "Occupation: Unspeakable. Years of service: 1981 to present. Currently: In." Slamming the book closed, Harry replaced it in the drawer on top of the discarded files. She was in the Ministry, right now, at work. Harry grabbed the picture of the original Order again from his desk and hurried down the hall, careful to avoid eye contact with his coworkers. 

His best friend, Ron, peeked over from his cubicle. "Harry, where're you - "

"Nowhere, Ron. Just heading to the loo."

"With that picture?" But Harry was already around the corner. Ron shook his head. "Some days..."

In the lift, Harry pressed the button for the eighth floor. He exited into the Atrium and entered another lift for the ninth level, the Department of Mysteries. His blood raced; he hadn't been this busy in weeks. 

When the elevator landed on the ninth floor, Harry walked out into a plain, dark hallway. This place always gave him chills; so many horrible memories plagued his mind. The last time he'd seen Sirius was through that doorway. The familiar black door loomed over him. He realized, with some embarrassment, that he didn't quite know what to do next. How would he find her from this point on? The Department of Mysteries was just that. Once he stepped through that door, he knew he'd find a circular room with twelve identical doors. Harry took a steadying breath and knocked.

The witch that answered looked ruffled and a bit aggravated. "What do you want?" she asked shortly, fist resting on her hip. Her wand was tucked behind her ear and in her other hand she clutched a ladle covered in reddish brown sludge. Harry shuddered to think what concoction she'd just been experimenting with. 

"Um, I'm looking for Alice Emerson, ma'am." Harry held the photo behind his back. 

Eying him suspiciously, the witch nodded and pulled the door open wider, moving aside to let Harry in. They were standing in the same circular room he'd had the misfortune of entering his fifth year at Hogwarts. It seemed like just yesterday and so long ago. That room had that strange effect on him, a disorienting nauseating feeling. Perhaps it was the blue flames flickering over the shiny floor, achieving the effect of one walking on water. "Right this way," she grunted, heading assuredly toward one of the doors. She pushed it open.

Inside, a small room held about ten large desks. Only four were occupied. At the far end of the room, at a desk facing the wall, sat a slight, auburn-haired woman. She was hunched over some papers, and as Harry followed the witch closer to her, he saw that she was labeling a detailed map of a land Harry didn't recognize, illuminated by a bright lamp.

"Emerson, you've got a visitor." Alice grunted and held up a finger. The witch with the ladle gestured to the chair next to Alice's desk and Harry sat down. He waited patiently for a few minutes while Alice worked. Finally, she looked up.

Her misty blue eyes blinked up at Harry and it took a second for her to focus on him in the dim light of the room. When she realized who he was, her breath caught and her eyes immediately welled with tears. Within moments, she was sobbing. Harry sat with the picture on his lap feeling extremely awkward and out-of-place. Alice turned away and opened the top drawer of her desk.

Pulling a tissue out of the drawer, Alice wiped the tears from her nose and chin. Harry cleared his throat and readjusted his glasses on his nose. "Um, I'm, er, Harry Potter. I think you knew my mum? Is this you?" He indicated the smiling young woman in the photo. The witch sitting before him looked remarkably similar, hardly unchanged but for the faint streaks of silver in her reddish-brown hair and thin lines in her forehead and corners of her eyes. 

Alice gingerly took the picture. She nodded as she studied the photo, tears filling her eyes again. She stared at the faces in the picture before she finally spoke. "We were so young then. You..." She looked up at Harry's face and softly touched his cheek. The gesture reminded him of his mother-in-law, Molly Weasley - it was a protective, matronly touch. He wondered what made her feel protective and matronly toward him. "You were just a baby. The son of my two best friends..." She choked on the last two words and lowered her eyes back to the photo.

Harry's blood pounded in his temples. This woman was his parents' best friend. She knew them when they were alive, had gone to school with them, and knew him when he was born. "Could you...I mean, if it's not too hard. Could you maybe tell me about them?"

She smiled tenderly and looked up into his eyes; Harry anticipated her next words, but she didn't say them. She didn't say, like everyone else from his childhood, that he had his mother's eyes. 

Instead, with a twinkle in her eye that momentarily brought the young woman from the photo back to life, she settled in her chair, placed the picture on her desk, took a deep breath and began, "It was our fifth year when life really took hold of us..."


	2. Chapter 1: Hope Comes Home

September 1st, 1975

Evening

Great Hall 

Alice Emerson picked absentmindedly at the chocolate éclair on her plate for a good two minutes before she noticed that it was, in fact, a chocolate éclair, not the crust of the pie she'd been eating moments before. She was so engrossed in conversation that the food had changed from main course to desert without her realizing it. She felt momentarily disappointed - she'd wanted to finish that pie - before she turned her attention back to the animated discussion across the desert-laden table. James Potter and Sirius Black, fellow fifth-year Gryffindors, were going on about their summer adventures; it seemed Sirius had spent a great deal of time at James' house, unusual since Sirius' parents usually kept him under lock and key over the summer (according to his lamentations from Welcome Feasts of previous years.)

"Right, so Sirius said to her, he said 'Have you confessed your sins, my child?' And of course, she said 'Who said that?'" James snorted with laughter and threw his voice into a squeaky falsetto, a terrible imitation of a woman's voice, Alice thought. James and Sirius were notorious for using the Invisibility Cloak James inherited from his father to play silly pranks on poor, unsuspecting victims. His unruly black hair flopped over his forehead as he flung himself forward, clutching his stomach. Floating overhead, Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor house ghost, looked concerned before James sat back up to push his glasses back onto his nose, wheezing as he continued, "Then I said" A snort. "I said..."

A small cult gathering had formed around the two pragmatic boys, as usual. Their talent for capturing people's interests often made them the topic of discussion whether or not they were physically present themselves. Sixth-year Emmeline Vance in particular was especially enraptured.

Sirius took up the anecdote. "He said, 'I have come baring penitence...'" He clamped onto the shoulder of James' robe and bellowed, " '...and you've been a naughty, naughty girl!'" They exploded with riotous laughter, gulping for air, oblivious to the ruffled glares from several Ravenclaws at the table behind them. The Gryffindor table broke out into cheers and whistles. "She looked like she was going to cry or slap someone but couldn't decide where to aim!" Alice's eyes crinkled with a smile as she took a sip from a stein of chilled butterbeer. Remus Lupin, one of Sirius' and James' best mates, stood up from his seat for Prefect call, raised an eyebrow at the two chortling boys, and shook his head.

"Padfoot, that makes no sense. It's not even funny...and it's terribly rude, I might add, to say those sorts of things to women you don't even know..." His scolding faded as Sirius cast him an irritated, disapproving glance. James lifted a spoonful of his favorite strawberry ice cream with a smirk. "Well, anyway, I'm off for Prefect call. Lily?"

Lily Evans, Alice's closest friend, threw one more blackberry into her mouth and sucked the black juice off her fingertips as she stood up. "Yeah, I'm coming." Her dark red hair was wavy and pulled into a hasty ponytail, a loose tendril curled over one of her bright green eyes. She grinned mischievously at Alice, mouthed "Good luck", eyes flicking pointedly toward the two rowdy boys across the table, and turned to follow Remus toward the Head Boy and Girl, Hufflepuff Matthew Campbell and Slytherin Isabella Pearson, at the top of the Hall.

Alice turned to fellow fifth-year Gryffindor Sam Trent, a tall, friendly boy with thick tousled gold hair. Her mouth grew into a fabulous grin and Sam smiled back, locking his green-hazel eyes onto hers. They engaged in a staring contest for a brief moment, then broke their stares with defeated laughter. Rubbing her dry, itchy eyes, Alice opened her mouth to say "How was your summer?" but was cut off by a silence that fell across the Hall. 

Headmaster Professor Dumbledore stood up to make his Welcoming Speech and Alice twisted around to face the Head table, aiming her attention at the stately gray-bearded man at the podium. Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House, sat just right of Dumbledore's empty seat and shot discreet glances toward the Gryffindor table, taking mental notes of which students whispered to one another during Dumbledore's welcome. They would be given detention later if they weren't first years, who were understandably excited and couldn't help but to commiserate with wide-eyed observations, or seventh years, who had sat through enough Welcoming speeches to earn a stray comment or two.

"Welcome to a fresh new year..." Dumbledore's voice reverberated off the stone walls and everyone's attention was on him. A young Hufflepuff giggled and was promptly shushed by the students around her. "...at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'd like to extend a special welcome to our new first years; I trust you will find Hogwarts to be a comfortable and enriching home-away-from-home. As for the rest of you, I hope your stomachs are full and fear that your summer brains may quite possibly be empty, yearning to be filled with knowledge and wizardry." 

Alice and Sam began to play a silent game of "I Spy" using hand gestures, nods, and facial expressions while Dumbledore reminded the students of important and commonly-broken school rules. Afterward, everyone stood to sing the school song; Alice and Sam applauded as Sirius and James loudly bellowed their own lively and terribly off-key version of the song. Dumbledore delivered a brief set of announcements and concluded with, "This is going to be a positively delightful year, but like all good things, we must wait. Classes commence tomorrow; be awake early to receive your schedules from your Heads of House. For now, goodnight!"

Dumbledore stepped down from the podium and threw the entire Hall into chaos. Prefects, who had been gathered in a patient group near the main door, attempted to corral students toward the exits, herding first years who were still staring at the table in wonderment, confused that the food disappeared during Dumbledore's welcome. Alice distinctly heard Remus shout, "No, no! _This _way - no, those are Ravenclaws. We have separate dormitories." She chuckled and turned toward the table again, noting that Peter Pettigrew - the fourth of James, Sirius, and Remus' group - had skillfully snatched some last bits of food to squirrel away into the pockets of his robe, now bulging with cake slices and peppermints, before the food disappeared from the table. The rest of her fifth-year house-mates were still conversing; none showed any signs of moving from their seats. Only students from lower years were heading out of the Hall. James and Sirius whispered conspiratorially with Dorcas Meadowes - probably about the yearly Quidditch tryouts that were to take place later that month; Sam chatted with Mary MacDonald and Amba Bhatti, gesturing wildly to punctuate each climax within his story, his eyes continuously expressive and bright.

"Ready to go?" Alice asked Peter, her elbows crossed and rested nonchalantly on the table.

Peter glanced at the friends around him and shrugged. "Sure," he said, rising gingerly after Alice, careful not to crush the delicacies in his pockets. Once the other Gryffindors noticed the two standing, they lazily followed suit. It was late and the weariness Alice accumulated throughout the busy day of traveling was catching up to her; her bones seemed to harden and become heavy, weighing her down as she trudged down hallways, up staircases, and through the portrait of the Fat Lady, and later, pulling her into the soft, familiar comfort of her bed in the 5th year girls' dorm in the Gryffindor Tower.

September 2nd, 1975

Early morning

Gryffindor Tower 

Alice turned over, pretending to be asleep. She ignored Lily's rough whispers and tried as hard as she could to ignore Lily's rough shaking. Her shoulder felt as though it were halfway out of its socket, but she kept her eyes closed. The morning sun spilled through the thick glass windows, reflecting off the lake and rippling over the soft folds in Alice's bedspread. After a few moments, Lily started shouting, irritated and uneasy.

"Alice, I know you're awake! You're a horrible actress. Quit being a prat and get up - McGonagall's downstairs with our schedules." With that, Lily left Alice's bedside and disappeared into the stairwell, presumably to visit the loo to change into her school robes. Alice mumbled and pulled her comforter to her chin. The morning air was uncomfortably chilly, licking at her cheeks and ears. For a moment, Alice slipped back into sleep until a stern voice traveled up the stairs and through the open door.

"Ladies, if you're not up yet, I suggest you get out of bed this instant before you miss breakfast," McGonagall shouted from the common room. Alice's eyes crept open and, with tremendous effort, she ambled out of bed, wincing as her bare feet shuffled over the cold stone floor to the end of her bed where her trunk sat waiting. Flipping open the lid, Alice rummaged through her belongings for a reasonably unwrinkled outfit, and pulling off her nightgown, changed in the room; Lily returned with her night clothes neatly folded in her hands just as Alice yanked her robe over her shoulders.

"Where are the other girls?" Alice gestured to the three other empty beds. She pulled her hair into what she hoped would be a semi-passable up-do.

"Already downstairs. Dorcas woke up early to go out to the pitch, Amba went to breakfast early because she figured she'd have a class the first shift, and Mary - well, you know." In their third year, Mary, a notoriously light sleeper, once spent an entire night pacing the Gryffindor common room just because the moonlight was hitting her face the wrong way. Every morning, she woke ahead of the rest of the girls. Lily tucked a curled strand of hair behind her ear and dusted off her robe, which - Alice noted - was lint free. "Ready to go?" Lily's voice was stiff; she sounded anxious and Alice knew she was making herself nervous about Prefect duties, which were piled onto a prospectively stressful class schedule. 

Sighing heavily, Alice nodded and grabbed her eleven-inch willow wand from her trunk. She really needed something like an alarm clock. Not being able to wake herself did not bode well for Alice's resolution to be more responsible this year in preparation for an apprenticeship with the Ministry once she graduated Hogwarts. 

"Now that we're all gathered - late, as usual - let me begin by welcoming, again, our newest Gryffindors." McGonagall beamed through her glasses at the ten first-years who looked sheepishly around the room at their upperclassmen. The common room was packed; all seventy Gryffindors, ten for each of seven years, crammed into the circular room. They sat on the arms of couches and armchairs, gathered in seated bunches on the floors, and stood on the staircases to the dorms. McGonagall stood on the small table in front of the fireplace, clutching a thick stack of papers in her hands. "We're going to have a great year and I want to start us off with a few announcements and reminders. Firstly, tryouts for Quidditch will be posted no later than..."

James yawned, clipping off the end of McGonagall's sentence. He was sitting on the back of the largest couch closest to McGonagall's table. His hazel eyes fought to stay open under his glasses. With a tired effort, James ran his fingers through his unruly black hair, a gesture that seemed a feeble attempt to rally himself awake. Next to him, Sirius' head drooped forward. James silently nudged him and Sirius straightened back up, looking a bit like a robot being charged to life. 

Celebrating the commencement of their fifth year, they'd spent the entire night partying with their dorm-mates. Earlier the previous day, capitalizing on Peter's singular talents for hoarding confections and repelling suspicion, James convinced the small, plump boy to sneak treats from the Hogwarts Express trolley into his trunk while Sirius created a diversion to distract the matronly women peddling overpriced sweets to the students. It was lucky for them that Remus was on prefect patrol during this particular moment of mischief. He did not approve of theft, even in the name of a good time. Once again in the tower for another splendid year, the boys enjoyed a bottle of Firewhiskey with their contraband - Sirius and James discovered their second year how perfunctorily Filch checked incoming trunks. Since then, they'd used this handy piece of information to bring loads of forbidden stuff into the school. Over the summer, they devised a way to smuggle alcoholic beverages into their dorm by pouring the contents of the bottle into several glass phials and placing them into Sirius' otherwise unused Potions set. Upon inspection, Filch simply assumed the phials were full of purified slug bile or a similar amber-red substance. 

Throughout the night, Remus, perfect little Prefect he was, had tried to persuade the boys into their beds. "Classes start tomorrow," he reminded them. "You might have an early morning class." Moony was always puncturing the fun mood with practicality. Wormtail, finishing off his spoils from the Welcome Feast, was perfectly content to stay up all night. The Firewhiskey proved a sufficient amount to intoxicate James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus, once he ditched his efforts at a good nights' sleep and joined the celebration. Sam Trent, the "fifth wheel" as he put it, spent a large portion of the night in the common room with a group of sixth year girls; the quartet left upstairs might have been jealous except for the fact that Sam had yet to win a girlfriend in the four previous years they'd been at Hogwarts. Later in the night, Sam finished up the untouched phials after the other four boys were satisfactorily drunk.

As McGonagall began handing out class schedules, Remus moaned. His head felt as though it were being beaten open with a very dense and solid rock. What had he been thinking of, drinking himself into a stupor the night before first classes? Taking his schedule from McGonagall, he noted that Gryffindor had History of Magic first shift after breakfast with Ravenclaw. As miserable as Binns' droning would make his hangover feel, the class could - at the least - provide an opportunity to take a rare nap. It was permissible, Remus reasoned, just this once. And Binns probably wouldn't notice. Remus glanced over the rest of his schedule, warm brown eyes skipping thoroughly across class names, times, and shifts. He heard a groan to his left, a disgusted sigh laced with disappointment. Alice Emerson, dark auburn hair pulled into a loose floppy bun, frowned at her schedule. Her nose wrinkled in contempt - Remus remembered how vehemently she detested History of Magic. He smiled and noted, with a small twinge of surprise, how cute she looked. He had never noticed that before; she was, after all, the same girl that hexed him blind in their third year for not joining the Muggle Club, condemning him to the Hospital Wing for a week, and then refused to apologize. Last year, she voted for Peter of all people as prefect instead of him. Retribution, she stated, for his lack of support of the Muggle Club in her time of need. Remus remembered this with concern as he studied her again, standing on the girls staircase and exchanging schedules with Lily and Sam, laughing at Sam's exaggerated dismay for an unsolicited scheduling tragedy. Her blue eyes shone with amusement, but Remus was relieved when James shook his shoulder, breaking him out of his unusual reverie. 

"Alright, Moony?" he asked, stretching.

"Just a bit tired from last night, is all." James nodded conspiratorially and helped Remus up from his chair. The four boys tucked their schedules into their robe pockets and after a brief conference, in which James and Sirius pointed out their free time until History of Magic, they agreed to skip breakfast. The four eagerly pushed each other up the stairs and back into bed for a few more minutes of dreamless sleep. After a few minutes, James, Sirius, and Peter drifted into a deep sleep, chorused by a symphony of snores, grunts, and whimpers. Remus lie awake for another few before pulling back his sheets, grabbing his wand from his nightstand, and stealing down the stairs on his way to the Great Hall for coffee. 

"Remus, the mail just arrived a few minutes ago. There's a letter for you here - I think it's from your mum." Alice tossed Remus a small envelope covered in coffee stains. She ripped open the grease-blotched letter that her own tawny owl, Beatrice, dropped onto her plate of bacon. 

Lily swallowed a bite of jam-covered toast and asked, "Who's it from? Home?"

Alice shook her head. "No, it's from Alice...Longbottom?" Her voice jumped in surprise. Mary, a rather large girl with frizzy yellow hair and a wide nose, let out a delighted squeal. "She did marry Frank! Might have told me sooner!" Alice couldn't keep a grin off her face. Sam, Remus, Lily and Emory Greminger, the stocky sixth-year Gryffindor seeker, seemed happy with the news. Alice Longbottom, until recently known as Alice Burbank, had graduated two years before in the same class as Alice's brother, Michael Emerson. The two Alices became friends through association, the older fulfilling a mentoring elder-sister role to the younger. Michael, Alice Burbank, and Frank Longbottom were inseparable during their Hogwarts years and famously outgoing, accepting people. Everyone who knew them liked them almost instantly. 

"What does she say?" Mary urged. 

"Er...wishes everyone well...says to congratulate Remus and Lily on getting prefect...says to keep her updated on the Quidditch rankings. Oh..." Alice's grin twisted into a concerned frown. Brows knit, she scanned the letter.

Mirroring Alice's worried expression, Lily asked, "Nothing's wrong, is it?" The rest of the table waited impatiently for Alice to finish reading. 

"You remember how I told you about Michael's new job? Well, she and Frank got jobs at the Ministry, too. They're Aurors-in-training. She says they're already requiring them to duel dark wizards, ones on Voldemort's side. They're called..." Alice retraced the letter, "Death eaters. She says to work hard in Defense Against the Dark Arts." 

Lily and Sam exchanged glances; Remus sat in silent contemplation as Mary blurted, "They're alright, though, aren't they? They haven't been hurt?" Alice shook her head. 

"Not yet," Emory sighed, fiddling with his glass of pumpkin juice. Mary inhaled sharply, eyes wide with fright. Noticing her fearful expression, Emory conceded, "But they're a powerful set, aren't they? I'm sure they'll be fine. The death eaters won't know what hit them." He attempted a brave smile for Mary's sake. 

Having recovered from her initial worry, Lily changed the subject. "History of Magic first shift. Should be fun, eh?" She smiled playfully at Alice.

"BLOODY HELL." Alice moaned, dropping her head onto the table. 

"I find History of Magic," Lily goaded, a mischievous gleam in her eye. 

Alice glared at her, then continued, "Just our luck, isn't it? And potions with bleeding Slytherin after that. I have an absolutely impossible schedule." She pulled her schedule from her pocket and displayed it to the table.

uMonday/u

History of Magic with Ravenclaw (7:30-8:30)

Potions with Slytherin (8:40-10:40)

Herbology with Ravenclaw (10:50-11:50)

Lunch (12:00-1:00)

Charms with Hufflepuff (1:10-2:10)

Transfiguration (2:20-3:20)

Defense Against the Dark Arts with Hufflepuff (3:30-4:30)

Ancient Runes (4:40-6:40)

Dinner (6:50-7:50)

Muggle Studies (8:00-8:45)

Divination (8:55-9:40)

Astronomy (12:00-12:50)

"Tuesdays and Thursdays aren't bad," Alice admitted. "I've got class until 5:30. Then on Wednesdays and Fridays I've only got class until 2:30, then astronomy at night. But what I thought was interesting," she began.

Remus interrupted her. "Transfiguration? I thought so too. Usually we have it with Slytherin, but this year it isn't noted." Lily and Mary nodded in agreement, cross-referencing their own schedules. 

"Maybe McGonagall finally realized they're all hopeless," Sam offered, taking a muffin from a bowl in front of Remus. The table laughed, then launched a tirade about the likely misery of Potions class.

"It's not too bad," Lily chirped, sitting straighter in her seat. 

Alice scoffed as Sam playfully tossed a muffin bit at the side of Lily's head. "Not too bad." Alice rolled her eyes. "Not too bad because Slughorn worships the ground at your feet. iThat's/i what's not too bad."

In the History of Magic classroom, James, Sirius, and Peter sat alone staring at the empty desks around them. They were disoriented, befuddled, and perturbed. "I think I'm going to be sick," Sirius choked, eyes darting wildly about the room.

James sat catatonic in the second desk from the far wall in the second row. Sirius was four chairs to his right and back a row. Peter sat diagonally behind James against the wall. This had never occurred before. They were the first ones in the classroom. The only other being in the room was Binns, humming pleasantly to himself as he copied the class seating roster onto the chalk board, and he didn't seem to realize the boys were there. Where was Moony when they needed him?

James nearly jumped from his desk as Remus entered the room, Lily, Alice, and Mary behind him. Remus raised an eyebrow, fixing James with a skeptical stare. Realizing his manners, James stammered, "Er, yes, Remus. Lovely to see you." If anything, this only resulted in Moony's becoming even more suspicious. "You're sitting here." He gestured limply to the seat behind him and sat down.

Alice and Lily exchanged amused, though incredibly confused, glances. Checking the board, Alice noted with some annoyance that she was seated two seats in front of Peter, and thus, diagonally in front of James. Lily smirked triumphantly; she was two seats directly to his left. Nowhere near his line of sight. 

"Damn," Alice muttered under her breath. Lily continued to smile as she sat down, waiting for Ravenclaw Jeanine Keila to arrive and sit next to her. They adored James in the way most everyone else did; he was an entertaining boy and relatively smart. However, once he turned his attention solely on one person, it tended to be rather irritating. During long stretches of time, especially in a class as dull as History of Magic, it was best to be out of his reach.

As the rest of the class filtered in, James grew uncontrollably impatient. He stood up once to let Hannah Wilson, a pretty girl with honey blond curls and a pierced bottom lip, into her seat near the wall. He turned to Sirius, who winked with a wolfish grin on his face. Clearly, he was referring to Hannah's reputation as a wild child and an exotic, indiscriminate lover, but James shrugged. For one, the girl had little by way of an upper lip - perhaps the cause of overcompensation in piercing the lower one - and two, her twin brother was a Slytherin.

Class started and James' restlessness built. He tapped his fingers on his desk. He sighed, a lot, and cleared his throat a few times. He even transfigured his textbook, iA History of Magic/i, into several infinitely more interesting things, including a pillow - which he napped on. They'd been using the same textbook since first year and it seemed impossible to get through the entire thing. By this year, they were just reaching the midway point. James sighed again, unable to sleep, and let his eyes wander, continuing to rest his head on the pillow. 

He skipped naturally over the males in the room, as if they simply weren't there. Even Sirius was unworthy of his absentminded gandering. James watched Alice sensuously push her straight auburn hair over her shoulder, exposing her soft creamy neck. Jeanine, whose thick brown hair reminded James of sweet hot cocoa, curled her long wanton legs under her, her skirt draping suggestively over her warm thigh. Beside her, innocent Lily Evans stared wide-eyed at the board, her bright green eyes noting every stroke of Binns' chalk. Her face twitched and she sniffed. James cocked an eyebrow. A second later, after several more rapid sniffles, she sneezed a high, timid "shooo". James shot up, gaping openmouthed at her. Her sneeze was the exact same pitch and volume as a golden snitch whisking past his ear.

Sirius noticed James' attention to Lily. Sure, she made a cute face when she sneezed, but Prongs looked like he'd just seen the most adorable ghost pop out of his showerhead; his face was in turmoil between admiration and fear. Sirius shook his head and returned to flicking parchment bits at the back of Natalie Buchanan.


	3. Chap 2: Proud Hearts and Stubborn Wills

September 2nd, 1975

11:53 am

Hogwarts grounds

"This is just excellent . . . first Herbology lesson of the year, and I've already botched it up!"

Jeanine Keila – tall, brunette, and known for her perfectionism – sniffled fretfully as the fifth-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors crossed the stretch of muddy ground from the Herbology greenhouses to the castle doors.

"How was I supposed to know that fluxweed is to be picked at the full moon? I thought the lesson required us to . . ."

Lily interrupted. "Nina, the lesson required us to pick the fluxweed _flowers_. We were supposed to soak the petals in an inch of water to retain the natural liquidity so Professor Slughorn can dry and powder them at a later date. As for the plants themselves, Professor Sprout clearly said we were to leave them in their pots and that we would be repotting them some time after the full moon."

She cast the Ravenclaw a sympathetic look and shook her head. "You must have heard her incorrectly."

Alice followed silently. Her evening blue eyes scanned the ground for patches of mud, avoiding them, keeping her shoes as clean as she could manage.

After five years of close friendship, Alice knew better than to open her mouth at a moment like this. Lily herself had forgotten to use bicorn hide gloves to handle the fluxweed, and had nearly withered the delicate leaves of the plant with her rough dragon hide gloves. Only after Charlie Bishop had pointed this out her did she exchange the gloves in time. Her lanky, blue-eyed Herbology partner had chuckled lightly at the mishap, but Lily most certainly had not.

Now, though her intentions were undoubtedly benevolent, Alice was sure Lily subconsciously felt she could regain her academic upper hand by correcting Jeanine's mistake. Alice always felt more than a little annoyed at Lily's need to feel superior in academics, but supposed that – as a Muggle-born – Lily needed a way to prove herself as a witch.

Though Alice didn't approve of her methods, as unconsciously as they were employed, she was certain that letting Lily have these moments of glory was ultimately better for their friendship. Lily was not aware she often acted this way, and Alice had little heart to tell her. For the vast majority of her interactions, Lily was a kind, generous individual and at moments like these, she probably believed she was simply helping a classmate. Alice wouldn't be the one to tell her that she needed to put a sock in it.

Sensing Jeanine's self-pity worsening, however, Alice steered the subject from Herbology.

"What class does Ravenclaw have after lunch? We have Charms with Hufflepuff which means – oh . . . you'll be with Slytherin, then." Alice realized too late that this would probably only make Jeanine feel worse. The three girls crossed the threshold into the school's entrance hall and immediately pushed through the double doors opening into the Great Hall.

"We have Defence with them next," Jeanine explained. "We usually test higher than they do, at least in the written portions. Some of them are quite good at the practical, but I'd say we perform better overall." Her voice touched of pride in her house, though surprisingly little distaste for Slytherin. A smile found its way to her lips, and she seemed to have forgotten about the fluxweed.

* * *

Same day

12:14 pm

Great Hall

Sighing heavily, James pushed his mashed potatoes around on his plate a bit before dropping his fork altogether. He rested his chin in his hand and sighed again, a little louder this time. Sirius sat opposite him, chewing enthusiastically on a piece of steak, absolutely unaware of James' not-so-subtle attempt to get his attention. Remus and Peter glanced back and forth between the two before Remus gently placed his fork and knife on his plate and, resting his elbows on the table, raised his eyebrows at the bespectacled boy sitting across from him.

"Yes, Prongs? You clearly have something to say. Out with it."

James nodded in Sirius' direction. The table fell silent. Sirius looked up, realizing his three mates were waiting for acknowledgement. He grinned innocently, swallowed, and choked, "Erm – sure, mate. What is it?"

James stared longingly at the redheaded Prefect at the next table, laughing as she conversed with Amba and Mary. "She's perfect," he crooned. Sighing once more, James latched his hazel eyes onto her from afar.

Sirius' face screwed into an expression of confusion as he followed James' gaze. "Who, Evans? Ha . . . very funny, mate. But I think you're making Moony feel inadequate." Remus rolled his eyes, and Sirius added, "No worries, Moony. I'm sure Prongs thinks you're perfect, too." He chuckled to himself, and promptly returned to his steak.

"What do you think of her, Wormtail?" Leaving Peter no time to reply, James continued, "I've only just realized how amazing she is. Think of it – she's cute, smarter than anyone else in our year - " Remus snorted, while James continued to list Lily's attributes, " – she's charming, witty . . . a bit too much of a rule follower, but that shouldn't be hard to change. Her sneeze sounds just like a snitch, you know – that must be a sign, right? And she has eyes like green diamonds . . ."

Only Peter listened to James' admiration of Lily with interest. Sirius was far too engrossed in his lunch to pay much attention, and Remus' face was etched with incredulity. After a few moments, he cut James short.

"Prongs, what are you saying? Do you fancy her or not?" If he did, this had certainly come out of nowhere. James had been infatuated with Evette Devlin from Ravenclaw since their first ride on the Hogwarts Express.

In the face of such a forthright question, James was not entirely certain how to answer. He did fancy Evans, didn't he? He silently weighed the choice of telling his friends the truth against the likelihood that embarrassment would ensue against the additional consideration of how likely his winning Evans over would be. There was no sense admitting a crush that would not play out. Finally, he decided his chances were good enough that he could risk admitting to his friends a secret they, of course, had already guessed.

"So what if I do? I've got a shot, don't I? I heard last term that she's had a crush on me since second year . . . although that may have been Lucy from Slytherin," James paused, trying his hardest to remember if he'd heard Lily or Lucy. "Erm, well, it doesn't matter. The point is – "

"The point is," Remus broke in cautiously, "that Lily has no interest in you."

"But – "

"But, nothing, Prongs. I know for a fact she's not interested. Besides, she's far too invested in academics, as well as her Prefect duties, to go messing around with the wreck of a boyfriend you would undoubtedly be. Think of her future, James. You can hardly remember a girl's name long enough to finish a date, much less put in the commitment necessary to cultivate an entire relationship." Remus shook his head, softening his voice. "No worries, Prongs. You'll be over this nonsensical crush in a matter of hours. Right, Sirius?" Sirius simply shrugged his shoulders, mouth full of potatoes.

"Meadowes was perfectly happy," James muttered under his breath, his mood dampening significantly.

"You dated Dorcas for five minutes, Prongs! And in that time, you managed to not only forget her name, but to insult her Quidditch skills AND kiss another girl!"

"Yeah, but she said she'd never been happier," James countered stubbornly. He was quite sick of Remus' always ruining his fun. And besides, what did Remus know about dating him?

"Well, when she broke up with you . . ." Peter corrected, his voice only a half joke. He hated getting in the middle of his friends' fights, but the urge to rectify false information proved too great. He'd thought maybe he could make his friends laugh. He shrunk back down in his seat, muttering to Sirius to "pass the rolls, please", which Sirius did, shoving one into his mouth before handing the basket to Peter.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Oh, alright, Prongs. I give up. Go, try to convince Lily to fall for you. You're only harming yourself, you know. But don't come crying to me when she rejects you – which she will, by the way." Although his tone was sharp, Remus – and James – knew well enough that if James did, in fact, have his heart broken, Remus would be the first person to notice. And the first person to try to make things right for his best mate, no matter how much James may have deserved it.

Feeling obliged to correct the situation yet again, Peter finally spoke up in James' defence. "Well, I think James and Lily would make a lovely couple." He grinned hopefully at James, who nodded in agreement.

"See! Wormtail believes in me! Where's your faith, Moony?"

Remus simply shook his head and continued with his lunch.

* * *

Same day

Meanwhile

Great Hall

One table over and toward the other end of the hall, Lily, Alice, and Jeanine had joined a large group at the Ravenclaw table. Jeanine and Lily were talking to Amba Bhatti and Mary McDonald, trying to convince Mary that her schedule was manageable. "At least you have an hour before Astronomy…that's enough time for a quick nap, isn't it?" Lily said cheerfully. Amba nodded, and Jeanine glanced between the two nervously. She hated seeing anyone upset, especially Mary, who was one of the sweetest girls in the world. Mary looked unconvinced.

Beside them, Alice participated half-heartedly in conversation with Dorcas, her close friend Vivianne Rowley from Ravenclaw and Mariette Pearson, one of the only tolerable Slytherins in their year. She and Mariette silently ate lunch as Vivianne began asking Dorcas about the upcoming Quidditch season. Alice and Mariette exchanged looks. Neither cared much for Quidditch.

"I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I have a feeling Gryffindor will dominate this year. Depending on the replacement players who haven't been recruited yet, our team may still be the youngest on average, but Slytherin is a mess. They'll be fighting between each other more often than against the opposing teams. Hufflepuff's got a weak Keeper, and Anderson and McKinnon will be too busy snogging to do Ravenclaws defence much good." Dorcas gestured emphatically with each point; she spoke so utterly sincerely about Quidditch. The sport filled every pore, fibre, and breath of her body. Quidditch was the reason for her sun-kissed skin, perpetually untidy wind-whipped hair, and constantly aching muscles.

Vivianne, however, disagreed with her assessment. Though Vivianne wasn't currently on the Ravenclaw team, the bronze-skinned fifth-year was almost as passionate about Quidditch as the Gryffindor across from her and planned on trying out for the team next year – after the OWLs, of course.

"Ravenclaw is stronger than it's been in a long time, and from what I've heard, we have some good players trying out to fill in the extra Chaser position. I would expect a pretty good fight from us this year. Besides, as long as one of us beats Slytherin…"

Mariette turned away from the conversation, rolling her eyes at Alice, who laughed in agreement. The Slytherin ran a hand through her tight, brown curls and regarded Alice with curious, pale blue eyes.

"Well, aside from Quidditch . . . " Alice murmured, grinning.

Laughing, Mariette nodded. "Anything else, please. How's your day been so far?" She grabbed a roll from the basket in front of her and picked off a bite, popping it into her mouth as she waited for Alice to respond.

The two girls had become friends almost directly after starting at Hogwarts. Alice had come to Hogwarts believing firmly in the stereotype that all Slytherins from rich, pureblood families were vehement blood purists. She'd been happily surprised when the first Slytherin she met – who happened to be from a rich, pureblood family – defied her expectations. Charms partners their first year, Alice and Mariette had found they had one very important thing in common: they both had seemingly flawless older siblings at Hogwarts, and though they loved them, both girls felt they fell under their siblings' shadows.

"It's been strange," Alice mused. "I miss Michael terribly – really I do – but you know, it's nice finally being the only Emerson at Hogwarts." She gave Mariette a teasing grin, as she slurped a spoonful of warm broth.

The other girl laughed. "It is, is it? Well I wouldn't know, would I? Being the younger sister and all to the Head Girl-slash- Slytherin Quidditch captain. I love my sister, don't get me wrong, but I'll be glad when she's graduated. Being the only Pearson at Hogwarts sounds nice." Although she had the third highest marks in her class, Mariette often felt overshadowed by everyone – her classmates, her housemates, and mostly, her seemingly perfect older sister. Academics were the only thing Mariette was better at; Isabella may be a great Quidditch player and have a ton of friends, but her marks were never more than slightly above average. Mariette, however, made perfect marks in almost every class and tried not to be bitter about the rest, as she knew first-hand how often bitterness scarred those who fell prey to it.

The girls continued to commiserate about their older siblings while Vivianne and Dorcas debated Quidditch, until all four heard Mary exclaim, "Oh, it's useless! I'll never pass the OWLS this year, never! All I'm good at is knitting socks. I might as well just peddle my wares on the streets of Hogsmeade!" The table burst into laughter, and Mary, becoming pink faced as she realized the hidden meaning in her words, giggled along with them, feeling embarrassed but with significantly lifted spirits.

* * *

Same day

2:20 pm

Transfiguration

By this point in the day, all ten fifth year Gryffindors had noticed the peculiarity of this year's Transfiguration class. Normally, Slytherin shared this class with them. This year, it seemed, they were on their own. When Alice and Lily entered the classroom, McGonagall was sitting at her desk reading _Transfiguration Today_ , absently Transfiguring an object on her desk into a multitude of different things, paying little attention to the students arriving for class.

The group stood in an awkward bunch just inside the door, until finally Alice asked, "Professor, where do we sit?" A seating chart was notably absent from the bewitched chalk board behind the professor's desk.

"Anywhere is fine, Miss Emerson," McGonagall replied, peeking over _Transfiguration Today_.

Mary McDonald, who had just entered, huffing and pink as a Pygmy Puff, glanced around the room and asked, "Where are the Slytherins?"

"Herbology, I believe," McGonagall answered, turning the page in her magazine and transfiguring the ten-gallon hat on her desk into a spinning globe.

The large room seemed somehow cosier now than only eleven people filled it, rather than twenty-one. The fifth-year Gryffindors scattered throughout the room, striking up hushed conversations until half past two, when McGonagall put down her magazine, stood up, and addressed the class.

"Gryffindors, please settle down now. Thank you. I trust every one of you has enjoyed a delightful summer. Hopefully it has not escaped your notice that Slytherin house will not be joining us this year. I had far less NEWT students than I had anticipated for the term, and since Hufflepuff and Gryffindor had the lowest marks last year, I have decided to give each of the OWL level classes from these houses some more personalized attention." She added, "in case it interests any of you, Slytherin and Ravenclaw will be Transfiguring together this year."

As McGonagall turned to reach for the textbook her on desk, Lily and James raised their hands. Without waiting to be called on, both exclaimed –

"We don't have class with Slytherin?"

"We had the lowest marks last term?"

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, and coolly addressed each student. "No, Mr Potter. No class with Slytherin. That's what I just said. And, no to you as well, Miss Evans. Gryffindor's scores were _slightly_ higher than Hufflepuff's, but in any case, there is still much room for improvement. Now, shall we get started?"

Promptly whispering the ends of conversations, each student turned around and faced the front of the room. Noticing that James and Sirius were seated next to each other, as were Dorcas and Amba, Lily and Alice, Remus and Peter, and Sam Trent and Mary, McGonagall frowned with disapproval, pressing her lips together with stern determination.

"This just won't do," she muttered to herself. The aged witch turned around and sketched a quick seating chart on the board. "I have decided," McGonagall began, trapping the class under her gaze, "that a seating chart may be pertinent after all. Each pair consists of one boy and one lady, who I hope will keep these young men in check." Her lips twitched with amusement and she winked amicably at the class, which giggled in unison, unbothered by the change in seating.

James turned to Sirius, whose wolfish grin confirmed his own excitement. James had been hoping to be seated next to Lily in order to get to know her better. Sirius, on the other hand, would not have minded sitting next to Dorcas; the tall dark-haired Keeper knew more about Quidditch than most of the girls Sirius had ever met, except, perhaps, his cousin Andromeda. As one of the Gryffindor beaters, Sirius knew the two of them could spend many Transfiguration classes secretly scheming for upcoming games.

McGonagall stepped back, revealing the chart on the board.

As the students moved into their new seats, James smiled amicably, albeit slightly disappointed, at Alice. He didn't mind sitting next to her; they had been friends for as long as he'd known her. He ran his fingers through his hair and reminded himself that she was, after all, Lily's best friend. If he couldn't sit next to the fiery, redheaded Prefect, her auburn best mate would be the second best thing.

Sirius moved to the back of the class and plopped into the seat next to Mary, who offered a warm pudgy hand full of Bertie Bott's. Pushing black hair out from in front of his eyes, Sirius took the beans, returning Mary's smile of goodwill. She wasn't Dorcas, but if she kept brining snacks, she was as good as.

Satisfied with the dynamic of the class, McGonagall pulled herself into her typical, straight-backed authoritarian posture and raised her voice to address the class once more. "As you all know, at the conclusion of this year, each of you will be taking the Ordinary Wizarding Levels for each of your seven core classes. The Transfiguration OWLs exam will consist of two parts: a written portion, and a practical portion. We will be reviewing the fundamental laws of Transfiguration and the rest of the basics from your first four years at Hogwarts. In addition, we will also cover some of the more advanced types of Transfiguration that you may encounter in your careers after graduation," she glanced between James and Sirius as she added, "such as Animagi, the term for people who can voluntarily transform into animals."

* * *

Same day

Meanwhile

Herbology greenhouse #5

A low snarl brewed in the back of his throat as Severus Snape found himself, once again, wishing Slytherin had Herbology with Gryffindor instead of Hufflepuff. Even if it meant he'd have to tolerate the insufferable antics of Potter and Black, he'd have done it just to have Lily as his partner instead of the clumsy, pixie of a girl he had to work with now. Charis Amity was a relatively tolerable person normally, but she had no aptitude for Herbology, he'd come to find out, despite Hufflepuff's reputation for excelling in the subject. Seething, though externally impassive, Severus raised his hand for the fourth time this lesson; Professor Sprout handed him another fluxweed plant without asking what it was he needed. She gave him a sympathetic look and then smiled reassuringly at Charis.

"You'll get the hang of it, dear," Professor Sprout chirped. "It just takes a little patience." She gave Severus an affectionate pat on the back and scurried off with a yelp as a particularly overgrown fluxweed plant became ensnared in Dedalus Diggle's unruly orange hair.

Severus scowled and handed the pot to Charis. Her face was red and her earthy green eyes were wide with embarrassment. "I am SO sorry, Severus," her apology rushed out of her like air from a deflated balloon. "I don't know what – "

The gaunt Slytherin hushed her with an upheld hand. "It's fine, Charis," he conceded stiffly. "Just try again, and for God's sake, read the instructions carefully this time." She nodded jerkily, small beads of sweat forming on her quizzical brow.

"Another mistake? You must be loving this, Snape." A jarring, nasally voice commanded Severus' attention. The thin, boyish figure of Lucy Jarvis shoved into his side, laughing as she gestured across the table toward Charis. "It would be just your luck to be paired with the only Hufflepuff that is hopeless at Herbology." The sharp lilts in her voice weren't far from cackles, and Severus' scowl deepened at the taunts of his housemate. Charis glanced up at Lucy, her face a mixture of embarrassment and irritation.

"Sod off, Jarvis," Snape replied peevishly, his voice just loud enough for her to hear. He wished he felt proud of Charis for still trying, especially since he knew the girl beside him – as well as most in Slytherin – would have simply given up after the second try, but instead, he found himself only annoyed at the Hufflepuff's incompetence. Why couldn't the stupid girl read the directions and follow them precisely?

He felt the urge to nudge her small, vulnerable body out of the way and finish the lesson himself. Furthermore, he wished Lucy Jarvis would mind her own bloody business and quit giggling next to him. He wanted the Slytherin on his right side – Gabriel Wilson, with his ridiculous curly blond hair and round cherubic face – to stop looking down his nose at him, calculating every move he made. Severus wanted most of all for this class to end, so he could escape to the library to start on the Potions homework with Lily.

He drummed his thin, trembling fingers on the table, and watched Charis fail, once again, from across the table. She looked up to meet his gaze, and his disappointed, angry black eyes bored into hers. For a moment, Severus contemplated a demeaning criticism about her inadequacy, but before he could speak, Lucy had already turned to Charis.

"Again?" Her voice was incredulous, mocking the small blond Hufflepuff across the table. "Is being stupid the only thing you're good at?"

Severus watched Charis' face, and his breath caught slightly when he saw the look of vulnerability and hurt in her eyes. It was the first day of class, and already she was breaking. He saw immeasurable pain, and a distinct sense of shame nearly parted his lips to call Lucy off. Kevin Bethney, the large, rather gentle Hufflepuff partnered with Lucy fixed her with a fierce glare. His thin lips drew back so that they were almost non-existent. "Lucy," his voice was low, a soft, commanding rumble. "That's enough. Please, mind your own work."

The red head next to Severus – an unsatisfactory proxy for the ginger haired girl he wished he was next to – let out a sharp, offended gasp. Her face turned a furious shade of crimson as she stood, pointing her wand at the boy in front of her. "You bdare/b tell me what to do?" she snarled, her voice cracking in rage. Kevin looked appropriately frightened at her outburst. He stood from his seat and slowly stepped backward.

Lucy's face, contorted in rage, twisted into a mask of sickening glee as she fed on the fear of her Herbology partner. Only when she felt Professor Sprout's wand at the back of her neck did her grin falter, and her arm begin to tremble, just slightly enough for Severus to catch it.

"That is quite enough, Miss Jarvis," Sprout barked. Her voice became even and controlled as she continued, "twenty points from Slytherin for your misconduct, and a detention at Professor Slughorn's discretion. Now, lower your wand and hand it to me."

* * *

Same day

11:15 pm

Gryffindor common room

Mary tapped her quill on the table, leaving small ink splatters on the piece of scrap parchment she was using for notes. Dorcas and Alice worked unusually diligently across from her, both glancing periodically at the open books in front of them. Mary could see the dark night sky through the windows behind her two friends, though the sky was too cloudy for her to see stars. The frizzy-haired blond laid down her quill and started to pick the dirt from underneath the nails of her thick fingers, finding it a momentary distraction from the horrendously boring Potions homework in front of her. The assignment wasn't due until next week, but Alice and Dorcas had enthusiastically begun the task of researching ingredients for the different potions they would have to brew.

When her fingernails were clean and the tip of her quill dry, Mary sighed and watched her friends work. Dorcas always tackled homework with vigour since her spot on the Quidditch team meant she had to keep her marks high. But Alice . . . Alice was rubbish at Potions and, come to think of it, Mary had never seen her work on Potions homework with so much focus.

"Alice," Mary piped, "what are you doing?"

"Potions."

"But, you hate Potions." Mary's characteristically blotchy cheeks burned redder with confusion. She wasn't missing something, was she?

Alice glanced at Dorcas and, resting her quill in the crease of an open book, told Mary the truth. "Well, I sort of just wanted to get it over with so I could research something else." The confusion in Mary's face was unwavering. Alice continued, setting down her quill, "It's a stupid thing, but it's been bothering me." She lowered her voice. "I keep wondering _how_ Sirius spent so much time at James' this summer."

Mary's face lit up, and Dorcas put down her quill with a resigned sigh. She had been wondering the same thing. It wasn't unusual for all of the students in their year to know at least a little of each other's lives, and students in both the same house and year could practically tell each other's life stories. Gryffindor, in particular, was a very close house with very few secrets between it. And the fact of the matter was that Sirius' being at James' house was unusual, since he always came back from summer hols groaning about the interminable hours spent wasting away at his parent's home in London. That he had enjoyed his summer, particularly in the company of James, was a notable occurrence.

"Maybe his parents kicked him out," Dorcas whispered. "I mean, he isn't exactly flaunting their purist nonsense like his brother."

"But surely he wouldn't be so happy about it?" Mary implored. "He'd be at least a little upset."

Alice shook her head. "I think he ran away, and – " Her sentence was cut short by a loud creak on the boys' staircase. The three looked up to see James grinning in their direction.

"Actually," he explained, as he pulled up a chair and joined their table. Mary's face instantly flushed pink with embarrassment, and Alice and Dorcas measured James' tone and reaction, making sure he hadn't been offended by their talking about him. Evidently, he hadn't been. "My parents invited him to stay. His parents didn't know mine very well, but had heard they were purebloods, so with a bit of convincing, my mum and dad agreed to pretend to believe in the whole 'purity of blood' rubbish. They were quite believable, actually, and Sirius' parents agreed to let him stay with me for the summer. It was all so simple, really; I'm surprised we didn't think of it sooner."

Almost on cue, Sirius came stumbling through the common room door, carrying a large box loaded with food from the kitchens. The Invisibility cloak that he, Remus, James, and Peter occasionally used to get around Hogwarts undetected was draped over top. He smiled at the group at the table, and took a few brisk strides in their direction. Setting the box down with a huff, he pulled the cloak off. "Alright, Prongs?" He nodded to the girls, winking at Alice, who snorted and rolled her eyes, a friendly grin across her face.

"How much food can you four possibly eat?" she asked, absorbing the amount of food crammed into the box. "That must be enough to last you lot at least a week."

"Actually," Sirius countered, "it's enough to last one person a month." He smirked at James, and they both pulled their wands from their pockets. James rummaged through another pocket and supplied a couple of small vials.

The girls eyed them suspiciously. "What are you up to?" Dorcas demanded, leaning her elbows on the table. Predictably, Mary looked concerned. A small smirk crossed Alice's features – she was almost certain this had something to do with –

"An entire day has gone by and we have yet to welcome Snape back properly," Sirius said, pulling items of food out. He lowered his voice, as though he was sharing a grave secret. "We're going to put some of these _innocent_ little potions into this food, and then send it back to the house elves. They know what to do from there." He stood up grinning triumphantly. "Grand, isn't it?"

The girls looked confused, and James added, "They'll prepare this food just for him and send it up to _him_ during meals. Don't worry, Mary, no one else will be affected." He and Sirius began to pick up various items of food and levitate small drops of the potions through the air, muttering incantations to bind the potions into the food. The girls watched them work silently for a few minutes. Lily and Amba were in a late night Arithmancy class, Peter and Remus were getting a bit of sleep in before Astronomy, and Sam was out of the tower, as usual.

Finally, Mary said, squaring her shoulders, "I don't think that's a very nice thing to do, James Potter. You should be ashamed of yourself. What if he gets hurt?" James laughed, and Sirius walked around the table to give Mary a quick squeeze and a small peck on the top of her head.

Dorcas merely smirked. Before James could say anything to his defence, Alice fixed Mary with a look and explained, "Mary, has Severus Snape ever done anything nice for you?"

When she didn't answer, she continued, "Has he ever said anything nice to you?"

"Well, no, bu-"

"How does he normally treat people?"

Mary was silent for a moment, before whispering, "He's mean." She didn't add, though she was thinking it, that there were several other students in Slytherin that were meaner than he was.

"Exactly," Alice nodded and turned to James and Sirius. "Does Remus know about this?"

Sirius smirked. "Well . . . no. We didn't think he'd be a good sport about it."

"I _still_ think it sounds a little bit mean," Mary interjected, refusing to be ignored. Her cheeks were their usual shade of crimson, and her yellow hair seemed frizzier with irritation. James sat in the chair beside her and gestured for her to turn toward him. With a bit of exasperated reluctance, she did, and he fixed his hands on her pudgy shoulders.

"Come on, Mary. We've all had our sour moments with that greasy git. This isn't anything he doesn't deserve. Trust us. When have we ever gone too far?" The tall girl relaxed in his grip, a small smile slowly cracking across her lips.

"I suppose never," she confessed. "I can't understand how, but you haven't ever really gone too far." She shrugged James' hands off with a giggle. "You boys are just too much." Her shoulders twitched slightly as she turned back toward the two girls sitting across from her, still a little bit conflicted about James' and Sirius' prank.

Alice and Dorcas smiled at the two boys and returned to their homework.


End file.
